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There I was, notepad and pen in hand. In front of me sat a panel of film stars. I was living my life long dream of being an Indonesian Journalist, meeting with celebrities, and receiving compliments for my fluency of bahasa.

But there in that moment I realised, none of it mattered.

Had I grown up? Was I frustrated with such little pay? Was I worried about missing precious weekend time with my little boy and handsome hubby?

I hadn't blogged in a long time. My new "job" was taking up most of my time and creative energy. There were definitely perks to this sacrifice - I got to meet interesting people, go to the city more than I ever did, go to restaurant openings and, of course, it made me feel like I was somebody. Even in my previous "blog life" I chased the kick out of pressing publish and getting likes. While I had good intentions for all of my blogging and article writing, in hindsight it's obvious it was all selfishly ambition driven.

As I returned my notebook into my bag that day, and walked down to catch the tram that would connect me back to my family in the outer suburbs; I felt this sense of not needing to chase the false high of all the praise I was receiving. That celebrities of any nationality were just people like you and me. Furthermore, I knew the God of the universe - was that not enough for me?

As the tram crept into Flinders Street Station I knew I was going to quit. And quit I did. Over 18 months ago. I also shut down my blog - the one with a domain name. I deleted the accompanying Facebook page and I wrote in my journal instead. Thoughts and prayers privately intertwined between me and my creator.

So why the new blog, then? I hear you ask.

Great question.

Sometimes I still feel the urge to write, and to share. I believe that we were put on this earth to share under the right circumstances. So I'm restarting. No deadlines, no dot-com, no ambition, no out-to-get-likes, no weekly post.. Just the raw version of what I feel led to write... and to share.